True Love Waits
by wormbuffet
Summary: Ralph's inevitably confusing life at an all-boys academy turns into chaos when a certain red-head comes back to haunt him...
1. Chapter 1

Percival Wemys Madison of The Vicarage, Harcourt, St Anthony, was crying again. He howled inconsolably, one hand gripping the trunk of a tree for support, the other clenched around a broken pair of glasses. Tears dripped down his reddened face and onto the flagstones.

As if in answer to his screams, a door attached to the courtyard opened and a head poked around the corner.

"Are you crying again?" asked the boy to whom the head belonged. "What's the matter now?"

Percival paused in his bawling and held the glasses aloft for him to see.

"M-My-my gla-glasses..." he blubbed, hiccuping miserably. "Harry...b-broke my glasses and I can't see..."

The boy stepped the rest of the way around the door and looked at him. He had fair blonde hair and was built well, possessing the clean features and the slender wrists of good breeding. He was older than Percival, almost double his height.

"Well, you're not supposed to be out here, anyway. Where's your class?"

"T-they l-l-left me..."

The boy sighed. "

"Come inside and we'll take you to see Nursie, alright?"

"I want to go home..."

"You can't go home, Percy. Not for another month. Now come on..." The older boy said, and Percival shuffled forwards obediently. "And quit blubbing, you're not a baby anymore."

Percival frowned at this comment and swallowed his tears, embarrassed and indignant but pleased at the older boy's taking charge.

Very little had changed in the year since Ralph's rescue from the island. He hadn't suddenly been born anew, as he had imagined he would be. His life continued and the memories remained. Old habits stuck with him. His skin was still several shades darker than his classmate's. He was still a leader, and although it was no longer his responsibility, the boys continued to look up to him for comfort and protection. There was a bond between them and the rest of the survivors that would never break. They had taken care of each other when no-one else had, and of all the tightly-woven cliques and teams in Abingdon, the survivors of the coral island were the tightest.

"Alright, Percy?" Ralph asked when they had reached the glass doors of the Hospital wing. The little boy nodded. "You'll just go in, tell her what happened, and it'll be sorted out."

Percy nodded again.

"And stop crying all the time. I don't..." he added, but then stopped at the tears that already were beginning to well up in Percival's bleary eyes again. He sighed and opened the door for the smaller boy, waiting until he had blundered all the way to the Nurses office before shutting it and retracing his steps back to the empty classroom connected to the courtyard.

"Ralph!"

His friends had waited for him. Maurice, a soft-featured boy of average height with light brown hair, leaned against the open window, and sitting on one of the front desks was Colin, a new boy he had just met that year. Colin had thin black hair and a beaky nose which had already been broken twice that year.

"Ralph! Where'd you go?"

"It's almost time for class again, didn't you know?"

Ralph grinned reassuringly.

"Just had to check on something."

"Yeah, check on Percy. Again." responded Colin, looking at him knowingly. He had not been on the island and did not understand the unreasonable attachment that the boys displayed towards him. He thought it was strange and a little bit pathetic.

"I couldn't just leave him alone," Ralph said, realizing they had heard him out in the courtyard. He didn't expect Colin to understand.

"He couldn't just leave you alone, more like."

"Eh."

Maurice smiled at Ralph. He'd been there. He knew. He left the window to sit closer to his two friends.

"So, Ralph, you going with me and Colin for the holidays?" he asked.

"Maybe."

Midterm break was approaching next month, and the worn-out boys at Abingdon were already making plans and daydreaming about it. Ralph usually went with his parents to Cornwall, staying in a little rented cottage by the shore. However, there wasn't any money for it now, in the wake of the Third World War. Their home had been destroyed in a fire and they'd bought a new one in Norwich. Ralph's mother swore she would never set foot in London again. His father didn't argue. He was still searching for a job since the Navy didn't need him anymore.

"There's going to be rowing," Maurice said dreamily. "And my Uncle Bertie, he has the biggest collection of Charlie Chaplin films..."

"I hate Charlie Chaplin." Said Colin.

"I don't," said Maurice, standing up. He held a finger above his smooth upper lip and, adopted a mournful expression. It wasn't the least bit funny, but his effort was admirable as he began to reenact a classic Chaplin routine. Colin dove out of his chair and tackled Maurice, sending him flying into the dustbin.

"You're a horrible actor," Colin grunted from beneath Maurice's knees. "If you tried it professionally you'd be shot." They fought savagely until the bell began to ring and lunchtime was over. They returned to Geography, rumpled and happy.


	2. Chapter 2

"You wouldn't believe how stuffy it is there," Colin complained. "It's like living in a shoebox filled with cats."

They were sitting in the back of Maths class, struggling through a complex page of figures and Colin was explaining what life was like in his new foster home. Colin's parents had died during one of the air raids on London. He was currently living with an old woman and her huge collection of glass cherubs.

"I'm in actual danger there. Each time I walk down the stairs, I take my life into my hands. The cats are everywhere. My diet is fifty percent dander now. She even lets them sit with us at the table."

"Don't be upset, Coz. Maybe she'll choke on a furball." Ralph offered, scratching out an incorrect equation.

"Maybe I'll choke on a furball." Colin replied darkly. "But I do wish she would. I hate it there. I want to go back to the one before her. They had a television, a record player and H.A.M. radio..."

Ralph allowed Colin's voice fade into the background. He was thinking about his own home. They didn't have a television or a radio either. Ralph didn't mind, of course. He preferred to read, but to his parents, it was a constant reminder of what they'd lost. Ralph could feel the tension in the air now, a result of the post-war hardships. Their new home was cramped and they shared it with another family. His mother believed his father wasn't trying hard enough to find a job. His father wished he could go back to the war. The horror of adult life made Ralph's stomach ache.

"...Ralph!" Colin demanded. He looked up irritably.

"What?"

Colin looked at him strangely and turned his gaze back to his work.

That afternoon was the annual football match between the Abingdon boys and their rival school, Pemberly. The Pemberly boys were sorely hated ever since the last match, when they beat the Abingdon team 7-nil. Now as they filed across the pitch to shake hands, boos and jeers erupted from the home team's supporters. Fists were shaken from the stands. Good-natured threats were howled by the oldest boys, perched at the tops of the bleachers like pimply buzzards. There was a faint whiff of smoke in the air as some professors shared a forbidden cigarette.

Ralph and the rest of his form were sitting near the top, but a safe distance away from the oldest boys. All around, there was an almost palpable buzz of excitement that had nothing to do with sport.

It was because there were girls.

A dozen of them, in fact. They filed from a black car with the Pemberly crest that the football players had ridden in. They walked quickly, all giggles and cheeky looks, to the side of the pitch and stood, obviously aware of the collective gawk directed at them from three hundred boys on both sides of the football pitch. Maurice sat straight up and whistled, his sleepy expression suddenly replaced by one of unusual passion. On his other side, Colin sneered but didn't look away. It was difficult living at an all-boys school. Ralph had not yet found girls to be a very interesting thing, but for others, it was like being marooned in the desert. The absence of the female species was supposed to protect them from distraction and fornication but instead inspired wildly creative rule-breaking. Of course, this never happened in Ralph's form, most of them being barely old enough to shave and still writing faithfully home to their mothers, but it would be soon...the age was fast approaching.

"God, they have cheerleaders..." Maurice said wistfully. "How come we don't get cheerleaders?"

"Pemberly is a mixed school." Colin answered. He arranged his scarf over his slightly gawky neck with feigned distaste.

"I hate Pemberly."

Ralph watched the huddled girls. The contrast of dark skirts against damp pale legs was interesting, and their long hair was certainly admirable, he had to admit, but they weren't attractive. Their waists were too wide. Breasts bulged beneath sombre school sweaters, interrupting what would have been the smooth lines of their chests. He wondered what his friends saw in the girls from Pemberly, and how long it would be until he saw it, too. As the girls danced along the sidelines and joined the players in the Pemberly school song, his thoughts drifted to banyan trees and pigs, to bath-warm water, to fire...The match began, and Ralph drifted slowly off to sleep. He woke with a taste of sour fruit in his mouth. The game was over, and someone had put his hand in his thermos of warm tea.


	3. Chapter 3

Several days later marked the beginning of the pre-midterm exam rush. Abingdon teemed with stress and panic. The Professors were impatient. The students, especially final-form boys, were frantically cramming all the material they'd slacked on during the earlier half of the year. Ralph wondered why the couldn't have begun reviewing material earlier in the month, that way there wouldn't be such a rush now.

"Help me with my Latin vocab?" Maurice asked Colin, who ignored him, head hidden by a massive history text.

"Go away, Morrie."

A number of boys, including Ralph, Maurice, and Colin, were cramming in study time in the school library. Ralph was trying to memorize the periodic table of elements.

"Iron, iodine, barillium and barium, helium, fluorine..."

"Help me with my Latin."

"I'm busy."

Maurice whimpered and crumbled his paper of Latin conjugation.

"I'm going to fail, it's no use..." he said pitifully. He buried his head in his arms with a hitching sigh, then peeked craftily up to see if anyone had been moved by this display. Ralph remained bent over his periodic table. The other boys studying at the long row table did not stir from their books.

"Yeah, we all heard." Colin said irritably, turning a page pointedly without looking up. Ralph kept his eyes fixed to the scientific chart, unwilling to join in on what was certainly going to be a nasty conversation.

"Sorry," Maurice said in a voice that made it obvious he wasn't. "Sorry if I want to pass my examinations. Hope I didn't bother you."

"Well, you did. And you should've tried a whole lot earlier, like, back when we were first learning this...We've got tests of our own tomorrow, and it's not our fault if you didn't bother to learn the material back in March."

"I did try, alright? Just not everyone is born with it, it's harder for me-"

"Don't try to make me feel bad for not helping you, Maurice. You're beyond help."

"Colin!" Ralph said, warningly.

"Let me talk! And you're right, Maurice. You are going to fail tomorrow, so why don't you just shut up and go on to bed? We can't, we've still got work to do, but it wouldn't make any difference for you, so just-" he paused, let out a breath, and continued in a lower voice. "Just clear off, alright?"

Maurice was still for a moment. Then he stood clumsily, brushing the rest of his Latin papers off the table, along with Ralph's textbook, and let his chair fall to the floor. Colin flinched when it clattered onto the hardwood.

"You're right. I'll just go."

Maurice scooped a handful of his crumpled Latin pages and threw them at Colin, who ducked behind his book. Ralph stood and tried to catch his sleeve, make him stay, but he slapped his hand away and stormed out of the library. A few heads lifted from beneath lamps and books as the heavy wood doors banged shut. Colin remained frozen. He stared at the space where Maurice had been sitting, mouth slightly open, fingers loosely gripping his book. His ordinarily sallow cheeks were flushed pink.

"Exam stress?" asked an older boy, passing by. Ralph glared at him and bent over to retrieve his book. This wasn't just exam stress. This was something else.


	4. Chapter 4

Later, when they were walking home, Ralph suddenly remembered he had left his book on his chair.

"Shit!" he blurted, and then caught himself. Colin looked at him. He'd have to go back and get it, all alone. In the dark. He drew his coat tighter around himself and turned to Colin, who had stopped walking too. "I've got to go get my textbook back. I left it inside."

Colin nodded and thrust his hands in his pockets. He had been unusually silent since Maurice left.

"I'll be right back. Don't wait up, okay?"

Colin nodded again and turned away. The school grounds were black as pitch and it was cold, cold enough for Ralph to see his own breath as he jogged back to the library facilities. The door was still unlocked, to his surprise and relief, and he slipped softly up the stairs to the reading room. It was completely dark inside, except for glaring squares of moonlight from the windows in the back. Bookcases and tables loomed blackly in the close air of the deserted library. Without even realizing it, Ralph held his breath as he tip-toed from table to table, running his hands over the tops, feeling for his lost book. They had been near the back, he remembered. Near the stacks. He brushed against something with his fingertips and recoiled. His book? Ralph reached out again and was met with the familiar scratched cover of his Second-Form textbook. He picked it up and was just tucking it under his arm when he heard something move ahead in the stacks. The hairs on his neck rose and prickled beneath his collar.

"Hello?" he whispered, heart throbbing painfully. Was there someone there, besides him? Is that why the door had been left unlocked? "Is anyone there?"

There was no response. He stood, feeling incredibly alone, in the centre of the library, book pressed tightly against his rapidly rising chest. He could feel there was someone there, someone else, watching him. The sound had come from the back nook, where the bay windows were located. There was a slight alcove there, formed by the outward bulge of the windows. He took a deep breath and stepped forwards. There was a second noise, louder than the first. It was definitely not an ordinary night-time noise, and ended abruptly. Ralph's heart thundered in his chest, all of his hair standing on end. Childish images of ghouls and ghosts were suddenly remembered, and frightening tales he had discounted long ago as silly suddenly seemed plausible. He gripped the book tightly.

"Hello?" he whispered again, in such a low voice he could scarcely hear himself. He stepped forwards again, closer to the bookcases. There were four or five rows between himself and the alcove. He imagined each one with a monster crouched inside, waiting, and the memory of the beastie returned. However, instead of frightening him, he was suddenly calm. There were no beasties. Only things that looked like them, and only littluns were afraid. Ralph straightened and stuck out his jaw. He would not cower and cringe like Percival or Johnny or Henry. He would get to the bottom of this, straight away. Ralph thrust the book beneath his arm and crept silently towards the last row, and peeked around the end.

Jack Merridew stood illuminated in a square of moonlight. Jack, his ancient arch-nemesis, his would-be killer. His friend. A fellow castaway and deadly enemy. Just the sight of him made Ralph's stomach twist.

"Shit." said Jack loudly. He wore the slate coloured jacket and matching trousers of a last-form boy, one of the students graduating later that year. In his hand was a book on ancient Persian architecture, which he perused with obvious disinterest. "Cock, arse, tits, wank...shit."

Ralph was impressed by this recital. He settled on his haunches, watching curiously as Jack flipped pages and chewed his lips. It was obvious he wasn't there for pleasure. He slouched like a man waiting at a train station.

"Stupid little shit. Midnight already, and probably having a wank over an anatomy book..." Jack muttered after glancing at his watch. Behind him, something moved in the darkness. A shadow separated from the vague gloom of the rear library and moved silently forwards. Ralph's stomach clenched again. A warning rested on his lips, but before he even thought to speak it, a boy leaped from the comparative blackness and crashed into Jack, sending the book flying. Jack screamed shrilly as the boy caught hold of his arms and slammed him into the bookcase. Jack's hair shone in a gap between their locked limbs.

"Stop it," he hissed, "Fuck off, Roger."

Roger ignored him. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back against the bookcase, exposing Jack's throat. The moonlight lit up his face. Ralph recognized the familiar calculating features, no longer ugly or scrunched. His china-blue eyes glinted furiously, surrounded by white eyelashes like starfish.

"Let the fuck go right now, Roger. I mean it." It was not the same voice that had cried at the failed mutiny on the beach. It was not the voice that had commanded torture. This was new. Flat.

"But...I thought...?" Roger asked, suddenly sounding uncertain. He stepped back a little and ducked his head. Jack jerked his wrists away and rubbed them.

"Jesus Christ, you're really stupid, aren't you? Can't you do anything right? I told you to meet me here, not attack me." Roger looked up at him through his bangs, his expression unreadable. He licked his lips.

"But I forgive you. You had my best interests in mind, I guess. Come here." Jack continued, his expression shifting. Roger approached, and Jack grabbed the front of his collar, jerking him forwards off his feet. The darker boy struggled to maintain his balance.

"Fucking imbecile.!" Jack Merridew growled, twisting it in his bony fist and crushing their faces together. For a single horrified second, Ralph thought Jack was biting him, until he heard the sound of lips moving against each other, and realized it was a kiss. Jack stood on tip-toes, a fistful of Roger's shirt, kissing him angrily. His hair sparkled in the light from the windows. He hadn't grown much since Ralph had last seen him. Compared to Roger, who was taller and built more solidly, Jack looked a bit reedy.

"Sorry, I'm sorry..." Roger mumbled when Jack drew away. The smaller boy cocked his head, surveying him critically. "I thought that's what you'd planned, that I'd come out like that...and..."

"Be quiet. I said I forgave you."

Jack brought their mouths together again. Ralph watched in horrified fascination as Jack steered his companion against the bay window, who leaned heavily against the stained glass as Jack gripped his shoulders and moved aggressively against him, kissing his neck.

"Jack..." Roger said, slightly muffled.

"Shut the fuck up." Jack snapped. He reached up and took a handful of his thick black hair. Roger did not protest. Jack pulled downwards until Roger bent over, unable to resist the painful grip, and then kicked his feet out from beneath him. Roger landed on his knees in front of him. Jack's hands fell to his front, his back to where Ralph was hidden. Ralph couldn't see what he was doing, but he had a faint idea and a lump rose in his throat. He turned away and rose shakily to his feet. His head felt light. He stumbled back through the dark library, clattered down the stairs, burst out the door. He ran all the way back to the dormitories. Colin was waiting for him in their room, half asleep.

"Where did you go? What took so long?"

"Library," Ralph responded dazedly, sitting heavily on his bed. He dropped the book onto the floor. "Bumped into some...old friends."

"You look ill."

"I guess I am." Ralph said, drawing up the sheets and not bothering to get undressed. "I am."


End file.
